Chapter 19

Beep…beep… beep…said the heart monitor. The only real sign Rush was still alive. Stroke, T.J. had told them, a bad one this time, just minutes after his heart stopped. Everything was happening so fast now. A miracle he hadn't suffered a big one already, she said. Significant brain cell death, she said.

It won't be long now, she said. Time to say goodbye.

Eli Wallace watched as Rush struggled for awareness, his eyes fluttering open and closed, his mouth trying to form words that would not come. Most of his right side was paralyzed, so T.J. had put the I.V. in his left hand to keep him from taking it out in his delirium. A plastic mask gave him oxygen, and the monitor reported every erratic heartbeat.

It was Doomsday. Eli didn't know what kind of sick twist of fate had caused Rush to end up half dead on the most important day of this fiasco, but sitting there at the bedside, he wondered if it was actually better this way. Rush had been fighting seizures all night and now he could barely remain conscious long enough to make eye contact, so there was no way the IOA would be getting any information out of him. He was probably going to be so out of it that he wouldn't even know there was anything going on. It would be more peaceful for him.

T.J. had allowed a limited number of people in the infirmary, restricted to a short list of individuals she felt, in her judgement, he would want there. Colonel Young was one. And Eli, of course. Chloe. Lieutenants Scott and James. Master Sergeant Greer. And T.J. herself. Telford had arrived to herald the coming of the IOA, having taken over the body of one of the civilians. Everyone else was told to stay out of the way. Eli had snagged first rights to deathbed farewells, but now that he was here, he could find nothing to say. He had put it all on the kino, but he didn't know if Rush had ever watched it.

Eli had one fist pressed against his mouth, the other tucked under his arm, his mind swamped with memories that drowned him in anger and guilt and regret. He tried to sift through them and find something good to hold to, but all he could think about was how he had failed his friend. He remembered how excited Rush was back on Icarus. He was practically giddy to have Eli on the project, glad to finally have someone on his level. Someone he could work with. Someone he could teach. He had even come personally with General O'Neill to Eli's front door, and he was the first to welcome him to the Hammond. He was so happy.

After the first connection on Icarus failed, and especially once they got to the ship, things shifted. Rush's enthusiasm soon became eclipsed by cold resentment. Eli saw it in every glare, heard it in every scoff. He realized early on that he was smarter than Rush. Their personalities and priorities clashed at almost every turn. It didn't help things that Eli kept siding with Young against him during the saga of their power struggle the first few weeks, and when Rush started keeping secrets and sneaking around, Eli was helping the colonel spy on him. It was a dysfunctional relationship, at best, and the truth was clean and uncomplicated: this was not the partnership Rush was hoping for.

But they had gotten so close there at the end. And although Eli didn't think he would ever be capable of what Rush wanted him to be, he knew they still could have done spectacular things. Now they'd never get the chance again. He found it very difficult to look him in the eye right now, and he was shamefully glad that Rush could barely look at anything.

He took a quaky breath, and when he spoke, his voice was weak. "Rush." There was a change in the heartbeat. Eli took that to mean that Rush could hear him. "Hey, it's Eli. Umm…I don't…um…did you watch the kino recording I made for you…?"

With monumental effort, Rush opened his eyes. It took several moments for him to move them to look at Eli, and they were only half-focused when he did. But Eli could see Rush in there, behind the oblivion, desperate to make a connection. Somehow, Rush managed to nod.

Eli found himself smiling, though the corners of his mouth shook. That was all he needed to know. There was a question in Rush's eyes, and Eli nodded. "I found the one you made for me too. And what you said really…" He took a stabling breath and blinked away the tears. "It really means the world to me. I just thought you should know that."

Rush nodded and his eyes fell closed. It seemed all he could manage to do at this point. Eli wanted to stay, wanted to just be there with his friend when the time finally came, but there were people waiting on him. He awkwardly reached out and took Rush's paralyzed hand, squeezed it, and stood.

Whispering, unable to do any more than that, he said, "I'm going to miss you."

Rush did not squeeze back. Couldn't. But his eyes were open again, and Eli liked to think that he wanted to.

—

Matthew Scott settled into the chair. Rush looked so small, so…not weak, but frail. It was weird to see him like this. He was always so bold, so present, so much larger than life, and now he was barely here in either body or mind. It felt wrong. Most of Matt's encounters with Rush had involved shouting, maybe a little shoving, but he knew an asset when he saw one, and this man was an asset. He was a fighter. But he was a fighter who had finally met an opponent he could not beat, and Matt felt robbed on a personal level that it was ending this way.

"Doctor Rush," he said softly. Rush's eyes cracked open. Matt slid the chair a little to put himself in Rush's field of view so he wouldn't have to work too hard to see him. "I've wanted to tell you something for a while, but I never really got the guts until now." He took a breath and let it out. "You told me in a dream once that you're not a great man." Okay, that sounds weird. "I'm sure there are some out there who would agree with that, but I don't think people give you enough credit. It's human nature to dwell on the negative instead of being thankful for the positive and I admit that I fell into that trap too. It's your fault we were stuck out here to begin with, but you did a lot for us to make up for it. And for me in particular. They told me that you helped save my life on that planet with the poisonous plants."

He'd heard the story several times, from Chloe and T.J. and Greer. It meant a great deal that Rush would risk his own life and stay behind to help him.

"But I think the biggest thing you did for me was how well you took care of Chloe. You helped her when I couldn't, and I'm glad she had you to go to. I know you weren't thinking of me at the time, but it helped me anyway knowing she was being cared for."

Rush's eyes wandered over Matt's shoulder to the door of the infirmary where Chloe was waiting for her turn. Matt turned to look at her and could see her watching them. Crying.

"She makes me happy," he whispered, angling to Rush again. "You saved her life, and she means more to me than you will ever know. So you may not be a great man, but you are a good man, and there's no difference when it counts. I'm gonna remember you, and I'm gonna do it happily."

Rush closed his eyes, then blinked them open again. Time was getting short. With Rush's permission Matt took his hand and said a little prayer, and when he stood to go, he studied him one last time with a little smile.

"You don't need to worry about her," he promised. "I'm going to take care of her the best I can. I swear."

And although he might have imagined it, Rush looked more at peace.

—

Despite having to practically bribe T.J. into letting her in the infirmary, Vanessa James could think of nothing to say. She had not, until this point, allowed herself to feel guilty for being the one who had brought those deadly insects onto the ship, but sitting here now she was overcome by a sense of wretched responsibility so acute that it made her almost unable to speak. She held her hand over her mouth and just gazed at him, feeling sorry, feeling grateful, feeling things she couldn't even name. This was her fault, and she just wanted to be here.

She and Rush had never been close, had hardly interacted at all in all the time they'd known each other, but right now, she felt inexplicably grieved that she hadn't made a bigger effort to know him. There was obviously something there that was worth loving. She could see it in Eli's face, in Chloe's tears, in the way T.J. couldn't stop shaking. She'd done her part to help care for him up to now, but she wished she could have helped on a deeper level. She wondered what might have been. Nothing profound, she was certain; but she regretted not trying harder.

"We're going home," she finally said. She brushed some hair away from his face. He twitched slightly and blinked as if she'd woken him up. "Thank you. Thank you." Leaning down, she kissed his forehead, then slid off the chair and slipped away.

—

Ronald Greer did not sit. He stood out of respect, one hand on Rush's, the other over his heart. For a full minute they just stared silently at each other in mutual deference, until Greer pounded his own chest with his fist, and Rush nodded his head again.

—

Tamara Johansen was already in tears before she even reached the chair. She watched his eyebrows knit together and he tried to speak, but she just shook her head. "It's okay," she assured him. "It's okay." His face relaxed. She took a breath and rubbed away a tear from her face. "Listen, um…I found the kino." She smiled shakily. "Thank you, Doctor Rush. What you said is very important to me. I'm so sorry I couldn't do more for you. You know I tried."

He closed his eyes, and she squeezed his hand.

"I want to thank you for everything else too," she said. "I don't think I have yet. Thank you for getting us home. Thank you for giving up everything so I could have a chance to see my family again. I don't think I realized how much that means to me until now." She had to look away so she could gather herself again. She felt him watching her. She sniffed, dragging her arm across her eyes. "Thank you for being my friend. I wish there was something else I could have done. I'm so sorry, Rush. I'm going to miss you."

It wasn't enough. After all of this, all that he'd done, all that she'd done, it felt so hollow, so shallow. There were things she felt that she couldn't express, so she resorted to something familiar. She brought his hand to her face and kissed it.

"I love you."

And she meant it.

—

Everett Young sank into the chair, feeling about thirty years older than he was, wondering if he looked as tired as he felt. His very presence seemed to have an effect, and Rush opened his eyes immediately. His gaze was mostly unfocused but Everett knew he was aware of him.

"Hey," he sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he'd picked up along the way. "I, uh…I don't know what to say. I never really thought we'd be here like this. I promised everyone we'd make it home, but it looks like I'll be breaking that promise one last time. I'm sorry."

Rush just watched him from behind the oxygen mask. No reaction. No change in his expression. Not even blinking, and he was barely breathing now.

"I wish this wasn't happening, Rush. I hope you know that." Then he shook his head, smiling morbidly. "Anyway, I found the kino. You think you're pretty hilarious, don't you? I'm going to have Brody weld that air vent shut."

Now half of Rush's face smiled.

The gallows humor, Everett thought, shaking his head. If not for that we wouldn't have any. "As usual, you're right. In the end we found a way to make this thing work. It was really hard, probably harder than it should have been, but we got there. You are a lot of work, but lucky for you, I like my job."

Rush glared a little, but Everett knew it was all for show. He reached over and took Rush's right hand - not the left one, to avoid the I.V. - and shook it firmly.

"Thanks for getting us home. Job well done."

Rush nodded to him.

Approaching footsteps announced Telford coming up behind him. "They're here."

No, not yet! They weren't finished. "Can't you stall them?"

Telford snorted. That was a "no".

He got to his feet, glancing one last time to Rush. "You want to say a few words?" he asked Telford quietly.

Telford looked to Rush, swallowed, and shook his head. "No, I'm good."

Fair enough. Everett stepped away from the bed, and T.J. went to take his place, crouching down with one protective hand on each of Rush's shoulders. "Everyone, the IOA has arrived. Please stay calm. Colonel Telford and I will handle this."

The doors opened, and he stepped in to block the doorway.

"Colonel," said the man who could only be Mr. Strom, in the body of one of the civilians. Behind him were the faces of two others, occupied by the jurors. One of them was Camille's. Everett remembered how furious she had been when she was told that her presence would not be permitted at the inquest, and for a minute he thought she'd start another mutiny right there, this time against the IOA. It was only with a promise from him not to let anything happen that she grudgingly gave up her body to the juror. And that was another reason Everett thought this was a stupid idea: the limited number of communication stones prevented the formation of a proper "committee". Sweep job indeed.

"Mr. Strom," said Everett.

"If you'll excuse me."

"I won't. I apologize, but Doctor Rush is unable to participate in any interrogations today."

Strom frowned. "It wasn't a request, Colonel. This is a direct order. Stand aside."

"I'm not going to do that."

Telford moved to stand beside him. "Mr. Strom, we have tried to warn you about this. I'm afraid what you're planning is impossible."

"I'll be the judge of that," said Strom. "I want to see him."

Judge, jury, and executioner. All present, say, "Aye". "Absolutely not," Everett maintained. "He is not well and should be left alone."

Someone stepped up at his back, and he somehow knew it was Chloe. The shift in Strom's eyes confirmed it. "Miss Armstrong," Strom said, smiling. "Glad to see you're well."

Her upbringing in politics had taught her many things, Everett knew, and a careful glance to her face told him she was prepared to use every one of them. "Mr. Strom," she said unlovingly, "Doctor Rush is in no condition to answer any questions, and I am in no mood to let him try."

Strom lost all smiles. "Young lady-"

"Miss Armstrong," she corrected him with gritted teeth.

He hesitated. "Miss Armstrong, I'm afraid that you don't have any authority to influence this one way or the other."

"Oh, I don't know about that."

Matthew came up to stand next to Chloe. Greer took his place beside Telford. James stood next to Greer, and Eli behind James. Strom looked bewildered.

"What is the meaning of this? Do you realize you are all defying a direct order?"

"They're following orders from me," Everett said, "I won't allow this to happen, direct order or not."

Just then, a man appeared from around the corner and stepped up behind Strom. The body was Becker's, but it could not disguise the gait, the carriage, and the sympathetic gaze. Everett's heart sank.

"General O'Neill," he said. He should have expected as much, but somehow, he hadn't.

"Colonel," O'Neill greeted him. "I see there is a problem here."

Everett nodded. "There is. Rush is on his way out, sir. I don't want to put him through this."

"This isn't about what you want, Everett. This is about making sure someone answers for what has happened."

"He's answering for it," Everett said. "Right now. In that bed. He's almost gone already. What is the point of all this? He couldn't answer any questions if he tried."

"Due process," said O'Neill. Everett knew he wasn't speaking his own words, acting on orders from his own superiors. That didn't help.

"Screw due process," Everett snarled. "Look at him. This is worse than any punishment the IOA could come up with, don't you think? He will never see Earth again. Isn't that enough?"

The general sighed and shook his head. "There's nothing I can do, Colonel. Believe me, if I could make this whole thing go away right now, I would. But the fact is, we need answers."

"I understand that, sir, but the fact is, you won't be getting any answers from Rush! He hardly knows his own name anymore."

"We have to try."

And that was the final word on the matter, Everett could see it. He felt his control slipping (not that he had much anymore, anyway) and he took a deep breath. "All right. Fine. Just give us a minute."

"Can't do that, Colonel. We have to get this done before he's gone."

Everett swore. "I'm not letting you in here until we're finished! Don't make this harder!"

"Everett-"

"I mean it. This is bad enough without all the political BS." Drawing inspiration and boldness from Matthew, he said, "You can have me court-martialed when we get back home, but right now, these people are saying their goodbyes. Let them do it in peace."

O'Neill didn't answer. Even Strom looked unsure. Everett glanced back at T.J. and nodded, hoping she would know what he was telling her. By the way she bit her lip, he knew that she did.

—

Chloe was very proud of the colonel. To stand up against someone like General O'Neill took guts, especially with Strom standing right there. Although, he was significantly less intimidating in someone else's body. She wondered if Rush could hear them, if he was aware of how hard Young was fighting for him. She thought it would make him glad if he knew.

"Chloe," came the soft whispered voice of T.J. Chloe turned to see her standing halfway between the door and Rush, beckoning with a hand. "I think he's waiting for you."

Chloe went cold. She held her breath and pried her hand out of Matt's fingers, only just realizing they were even there, and walked with short, clumsy steps to Rush's bedside. For a second she just stood there and stared. She didn't want to sit; the chair looked dangerous. He would be gone before she stood again. Although it was crazy, for a moment she couldn't escape the feeling that sitting in that chair would be what killed him, and it was such a terrifying thought that she actually took a step back as if that would help.

"Chloe," T.J. gently prompted her.

Biting on her tongue, she gripped one armrest and then the other, slowly forcing herself down. She couldn't look away from his face. His eyes were closed, and she couldn't tell if he was even still conscious. She took a breath. "Doctor Rush," she said, and immediately didn't know why. He hadn't been "Rush" to her in so long, and she couldn't remember ever calling him "Doctor" to his face. She felt shaky, sick, and a little tingly. Her hands were numb. She was hyperventilating.

No reaction. Just the slow beep, beep, beep of the heart monitor. She looked to T.J., who nodded.

"He can hear you."

Chloe swallowed, forcing her breathing to slow. "Nick." His eyes dragged open. The deep brown seemed to have washed out, and he gazed half-focused somewhere near her face. She could feel the scrutiny of everyone else on the back of her head, heard them murmuring, whispering. She ignored them and focused entirely on Rush. "I have something important to tell you. I really should have said this earlier. I'm so sorry it took me this long." She grasped his useless hand, squeezing gently, and with her other hand she reached down to brush away his hair and touch his face. Whispering, she said, "I found the kino. I love you too."

His paralyzed face betrayed no emotion, but the way his eyes filled up told it all.

Tears were slipping down her cheeks, and a choking sob bubbled in her throat. She pushed the hair out of his face again and sniffed. "And you're wrong about what you told me before. I do think you made the wrong decision. I'm so happy that T.J. is coming back home, I'm so happy, but I don't know how I will be able to look at her knowing she's the reason you're not here."

He shifted his eyes to hers, and even with his inability to communicate she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"I don't care," she argued. "My head understands. My heart doesn't. All it knows is that she's here, you're leaving me, and that's that." Leaning down, she kissed his cheek, laying her head on his shoulder. "I wish you were coming home instead. I'm going to miss you so much."

She wanted him to hold her. She missed his voice. She wanted his soothing embrace one last time, the strength of his arms around her back, his warmth, his love. She just felt cold. Isolated. She ached inside and out, feeling very far away even though he was right there, so she laid her arm across his chest and held him instead. She wouldn't let go. Until the end she wouldn't let go. She would stay there with him, no matter how long it took. She shut her burning eyes.

She could hear Colonel Young arguing again with Strom and O'Neill. It was getting heated over there. Telford said something, and Strom said something back, and Matt sounded like he was getting in someone's face. Young interrupted, and then Strom said something again which started the whole thing over. She could feel Rush's heartbeat, weak and uneven, and she wondered if he could hear them too. Can't they close the door? She wished they would take themselves away. Rush didn't need this.

T.J. was speaking. But not to her. To Strom and Young and O'Neill and all the rest. Chloe couldn't hear what she was saying.

But she did hear Strom. "We must get some answers."

"He needs rest," T.J. responded. "You can question him when he wakes up."

"That's not good enough."

She felt Rush move his left side, the side she was lying on, and then his hand was on her shoulder. The hold was feeble and unsteady, but it was his, and it was the only one she wanted now. She held him a little tighter.

Footsteps coming closer. "Chloe…" came T.J.'s voice.

"No," Chloe said. "I'm not leaving him. I'm not."

There was a pause. "Chloe," T.J. said again, more softly this time. Chloe opened her eyes and tried to look at her, but instead all she could see was the syringe in her hand. Sedative. Her heart jumped into her throat.

"No," she choked. She gripped Rush's shirt as if to protect him. "No, not yet. T.J., not yet."

"I have to," T.J. said. Tears unshed were shining in her eyes, forbidden to be set free. "It's time."

Chloe sat up to look at Rush's face. His eyes were fixed on hers, clear and focused. When he nodded his head, she knew T.J. was right. Suddenly she couldn't breathe.

"What is going on here?" Strom demanded. He had managed to break through the blockade in the doorway and was standing with O'Neill at the next bed over. Chloe bit back a snarl. "What are you giving him?"

T.J. eyed Rush. "It's a stimulant," she lied. The others in the room were gathering around the bed. They all knew what this meant. "He's too weak for this on his own, but this will put him in a better condition to talk."

Chloe lowered her head again, determined not to react. It would only cause problems. Strom didn't look like he completely believed T.J., but neither was he a doctor and he didn't know this drug. If he suspected something, he didn't say so.

"All right," he said. "How long until he will be ready?"

Behold, the king of stupid questions. T.J. was still looking at Rush. He didn't move, just watching her. "I can't say. But this needs time to take affect, so it could be a while."

Forever.

"We'll let you know," Colonel Young said.

O'Neill, meanwhile, observed without objection.

Chloe watched un-breathing as Tamara injected the sedative into Rush's I.V. It was a bluish-green color, and she pointlessly wondered which of the dozens of worlds they'd visited it had come from. It swirled and snaked its way through the tube and disappeared out of her view.

She crawled completely out of the chair and onto the bed, squishing up beside him and planting her face in his shoulder. I can't believe you're really leaving. She gripped his shirt in her fist and physically shook with the effort of trying to keep from ripping the I.V. needle out herself. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

She would always remember the moment his grip went rigid. And then the moment she realized he wasn't holding her anymore.

—

It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. He was just very, very tired. But he was warm and he was mostly comfortable. He felt a vague burning sensation where the I.V. needle broke his skin, but no pain. Tamara must have found a way to administer the painkillers through the I.V.; it was the first time in a week that he didn't feel like his skull was cracking open. He had Chloe in his arms. It was nice.

Colonel Young had a hand on his shoulder. Tamara had one on his head. It was Eli who had taken his paralyzed hand, and Greer had covered the one holding Chloe. James was there somewhere, probably holding one of his ankles. He didn't know where Telford went. It…it was nice.

His vision was blurring and going double. He saw things in slow motion with long tails of after-images. Lots of shadows. The voices were muffling and growing distant. He knew what was happening, knew that he wasn't going to wake up again, but he couldn't find it in himself to be afraid, and as he began to slip away he wondered if it was because he had finally done something right. These people were his friends. It had been such a long time since he'd had any that he had forgotten what it felt like. It was nice.

He thought he could hear Chloe crying. That felt wrong. He wanted to comfort her, but he couldn't find her. He couldn't feel much of anything now. So he tightened his hand on what might have been her shoulder instead.

His very last thought before he surrendered to the darkness was that he felt safe at last.